


a thousand suns

by blxcksqvadron



Series: the in sound from way out [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Coital Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22013623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blxcksqvadron/pseuds/blxcksqvadron
Summary: finn and poe finally catch a break. follows on from "a quiet moon".
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Series: the in sound from way out [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584535
Comments: 19
Kudos: 198





	a thousand suns

**Author's Note:**

> thx again to robotboy for being my ever vigilant reader-overer.

Peace, unfortunately, did not mean rest. 

Not having a gun pointed at his head— proverbially, or otherwise— certainly helped. He slept better than he had in years, sure, but still in drips and drabs, time whenever he could find it. (There was rarely time to be found.) 

Poe scrubbed at his face with his hands with a dull groan. Nothing else was going to get done tonight. He’d spent the entire day in the command terminal on comms with delegates and admiralty from core worlds that had allied themselves to the First Order with a speed and cruelty that set Poe’s teeth on edge. Ambassadors that had sold their civilians as labour, indigenous lands as resource, and now wished to parley and claim corruption amongst the ranks. If it were entirely up to him, they’d go down with the rest of the war criminals at the drop of a hat; he’d throw them to the people whose lives they’d valued so lightly. Not exactly the kind of restorative justice that was expected of a movement borne from the New Republic. This was work that Leia had always been better at. She’d been a galactic dignitary: a Senator, royalty. Poe could negotiate at blaster-point, but  _ this _ — this felt like pazaak with entirely unknown cards. 

Those bastards, he decided, could wait a day. 

“Chancellor, if you’ll excuse me,” he said to the holocam, in a voice almost too loud for his own ears.   
“Commander Dameron-”   
“We’ll take this up in the morning.”   
“But-”   
“In. The.  _ Morning _ .” He toggled the switch on the holo, skulking away from the terminal and into the night. Whatever umbridge it caused could be dealt with later, or even better, by somebody else. 

The rain had been torrential all day, and the forest was heady and lush for it; Poe broke into a sweat just from wandering from the base to the Falcon. Fat, clumsy fireflies bumped into mossy tree trunks along the dirt path to the ship. (Poe made a note to himself to take his boots off on the ramp so he wouldn’t track mud into the hold.) He knew the route well enough by now that he could have walked it with his eyes closed, and, as he thought about it, he probably had, in the weeks that had passed. The ringing in his ears had died down enough that he could make out the chitters and whoops of night birds in the canopy, at least. They were busy tonight, distracted. Poe squinted up at the branches, his trigger finger twitching aimlessly at his hip. He hadn’t carried a blaster for a while. Hadn’t needed to. (Had to remember that, tonight, apparently.) He sighed, wiped the sweat from his brow, scraped his hair back through his fingers.    
“Easy there, pal,” he murmured to himself, and kept walking. 

They— being Poe, with Rey and Chewie’s permission— had parked the Falcon a ways from the base, near enough to get to in an emergency, but far out enough that a little peace and quiet was attainable. Admittedly, Poe had never been one for  _ quiet _ , if not  _ peace _ . He’d spent the better half of his life working for the greater good, and until recently, the greater good did not include many opportunities for downtime. But the Falcon was there, clean and familiar and tucked away in a dense thicket of ferns, for when the rare occasion arose. Poe leaned against one of its landing pillars, still cool despite the humidity, and thumped the ramp control with a loosely closed fist. A warm, pale light slipped through the gap as it descended, bathing the greenery in its glow. He kicked his boots and socks off against one of the hydraulic arms, lined them up at the head of the ramp.    
“Anyone home?”   
He tried to make a little more noise as he padded barefoot through the hold, just in case; he’d once accidentally walked in on Rose taking a nap and nearly received a prod-shock for it. (The smell of his own eyebrows prickling was one he would rather forget.) Poe poured himself a finger of chilled whiskey and sat down on the curved bench; he put his feet up on the dejarik table, careful not to turn it on in the process, and let his head drop back against the padded seat-board with a satisfying  _ thunk _ . 

His moment of solitude lasted all of about three and a half minutes. 

Boots stomped up the ramp in a slow, uneven gait. Poe groaned loudly, irritably, and closed his eyes.   
“ _ Nope _ ,” he called out toward the corridor, “I’m not moving unless something is actually, literally, on fire.” He sunk further into the couch, arms sprawled out. The stomping halted, but was soon replaced with quieter shuffling.    
“Aw, not even for me?”    
Finn appeared from around the corner, looking exhausted but pleased. Poe grinned, gave him a lazy salute with his glass.    
“ _ General _ .”   
“I hate to say it, Poe, but-”   
“So don’t say it.”    
Finn gave him a dour smirk.    
“You look terrible.”    
Poe’s face dropped into a scowl.   
“Oh, thanks. Nice to see you, too.” He knew Finn was right, though. He’d caught a glance of himself in the reflection of a dormant chart screen and was a little startled. Finn nudged Poe’s feet out of the way with his hip and leaned against the dejarik table.   
“When was the last time you ate? Or, y’know, washed?”   
Poe downed the rest of his whiskey with a grimace.    
“Earlier?” He shrugged, but then sniffed his own armpit. “Recently. Ish.”    
Finn rolled his eyes.   
“Oh, okay. That’s fine, then.” He clicked his tongue.    
“I missed you,” said Poe, in his most disarming voice. He pushed himself upright on the couch with a quiet grunt of exertion, and folded his arms in Finn’s lap, rested his head on them. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in a month.”   
Finn ran his hands through Poe’s hair, pushing it back from his face in ragged streaks; in amongst the thick dark curls, there was a small patch of grey starting to come through.    
“Honestly, I’m not sure if you have.” He frowned, tilted Poe’s head up towards him with a gentle tug near his scalp. “Do you just wanna get some sleep, or…?”   
Poe put his hands over Finn’s.   
“Mm, no. Not any more.” He kissed the inside of Finn’s wrist, looked up sweetly. Finn laughed, low and quiet.    
“Had a feeling you’d say that.”   
“‘Course you did. You’re good at that.”   
“Having feelings?”   
“Yes.”   
Finn dropped his hands from Poe’s face and leaned forward.   
“I’m gonna take you to bed.”   
Poe held Finn in place by his lapels.   
“Only if you stay with me.” He raised an eyebrow.   
“I think I can be convinced,” said Finn.    
  
If it wasn’t so damned attractive, Poe would take insult at Finn picking him up like he didn’t weigh a damned thing. Instead, he wrapped his legs tight around Finn’s waist, let his arms loop loosely around Finn’s neck. Finn held him squarely by his thighs and carried him to the forward hold, which had been repurposed as a remarkably cosy bedroom. Finn’s calves hit the edge of the bed and Poe let himself fall onto the mattress. He spread out to all four corners in a long, arduous stretch; joints cracked and popped in body parts he forgot should move. Finn cringed at the sound and Poe felt incredibly, impossibly old.   
“Hey,” Finn said softly, holding Poe’s ankle loosely. “Let me take care of you.”   
“What? No.” Poe sat up on his elbows and scowled in protest. “You’ve been just as busy as me.  _ Busier _ , I’d wager. I’m just,” he gestured at himself, “ _ ancient _ .”   
Finn huffed and crawled between Poe’s outstretched legs, leaned over him on firm, strong arms. Poe cupped his face, thumbs tucked behind his ears.   
“How long ago did I promise you this, hmm?” Finn had that funny little look on his face, somewhere between mischief and mistrust, brow raised, chin tilted up.   
“Oh, so it’s just because you owe me?” Poe teased.   
“Nope,” said Finn, matter-of-factly, refusing to take the bait. He began to undo the buttons on Poe’s shirt, slowly, methodically. “‘Cause I want to.”   
“Yeah?”   
“Yeah.”   
Poe shrugged out of his shirt, still careful with his right arm. The worst of it had passed weeks ago, but it twinged every now and then, and clothes felt  _ weird _ against the skin. The scar was an ugly knot, and while he wouldn’t have dared think the same of any of his compatriots, he was strangely ashamed of it. Finn cocked his head and looked down at him like he knew what Poe was thinking; Poe realised he may well  _ actually know _ , and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that at all.   
“Come back to me,” was all he said, though. He helped Poe wiggle out of his sleeves.   
“Hmm? Yeah.” Poe blinked. “Yeah. I’m right here, buddy.” He sat up as best he could, slung his arms around Finn’s shoulders. They pressed their foreheads together, the dink in Poe’s nose pushing Finn’s flatter. “It’s so good to see you.”   
Finn kissed him, slow and considered: a lot of lip, a little tongue, a playful threat of teeth. Poe let out a small, pleased hum, deep at the back of his throat, opened up a little more, fell pliant when Finn pushed him down onto his back again.    
“Fair warning,” Finn murmured against Poe’s jaw, “I’m kinda rusty.”

Poe opened his mouth and closed it again. It was naïve to assume Finn had never done anything like this before, but he genuinely hadn’t considered it. The plastoid Trooper get-up didn’t look very amenable to sneaky hookups. He shook his head, blinked, looked down at Finn, who was looking up at him like he was waiting for a signal.   
“Well, as you know, I’ve had all that time on my hands to keep my game up, so.”   
Finn bit at his collarbone in retort, which Poe supposed was to tell him the joke wasn’t that funny, but mostly just made his cock twitch. Finn made a curious noise under his breath and did it again, sinking his teeth into the meat of Poe’s throat; Poe, who’d spent most of his life conditioning himself to be quiet, curled his left hand into a fist and shoved it against his mouth.   
“Nuh-uh.” Finn pushed at Poe’s arm until it went loose and dropped to the side. “I wanna hear you.”   
“Right,” said Poe, a little hoarsely. “Yeah.” He gripped the blanket instead. Finn trailed a firm, wet line down Poe’s chest. He was careful to move the chain around his neck out of the way, which made Poe’s heart ache with sweetness, and was not the mood he was expecting right then, which made it all the sweeter. He traced around the scar on Finn’s shoulder with his fingertips while it was still in reach: a rough, pale scrape, like a meteor’s tail. Finn nuzzled the short, dark thicket of hair that reached up to Poe’s navel, nipped experimentally at the little dip in his waist.   
“Off?”   
“Yeah.”   
Poe lifted his hips up to shimmy out of his pants, but Finn’s chest stopped him from moving and he found himself bucking up against Finn’s body like a frustrated teenager. Finn laughed and hooked his fingers inside Poe’s waistband, flicked the catch with his thumbs. Poe kicked at Finn’s knees.   
“ _ Off!” _   
Finn laughed harder, face pressed into Poe’s belly, which tickled horrendously, but a few moments later he was laid entirely bare against the sheets. Finn sat back on his heels, looking over Poe’s body in a way that made Poe half-hard and also suddenly, deeply self-conscious. Looking at Finn looking at him made a nervous sweat prickle at the back of his neck. He swallowed, took a shallow breath.   
“This is a little unfair, don’t you think,” he croaked. Finn rested his hands high on Poe’s thighs, which made Poe stutter in a way he wasn’t very proud of. He cleared his throat, tried again. “I mean, I’m great and all, sure, but you’re still wearing all your clothes.”   
“You’re right,” said Finn, and pulled his shirt up over his head in one single, fluid movement.

Poe had seen Finn shirtless plenty of times, but this was different; this was private, intimate. Finn stood up from the bed to take off his pants and Poe felt impossibly lonely for all ten seconds of it, until Finn came crashing back on top of him, an enormous mass of lean muscle and body heat. Poe huffed, winded, but determined to pull Finn as close as possible.   
“Better?” asked Finn, thigh pressed into Poe’s hip.   
“Oh,  _ infinitely _ .” Poe grazed his knuckles down the taut line of Finn’s stomach until he could wrap his hand around Finn’s cock, which made Finn hiss, and made Poe kind of want to hold onto Finn’s dick for the rest of his life. He rolled his thigh outward and pushed up, gesturing for Finn to give him a little more room. Finn nodded against his shoulder and crooked his leg up; Poe swiped his thumb over the head of his cock, twisted his wrist in the new space he was afforded. Finn rocked into Poe’s grip, slipped his hands behind Poe’s back and down to his ass. Poe knew he had a fantastic ass, but now he knew that Finn also knew, which was probably the best information he’d received all day.   
“Tense, much?” Finn asked, low and soft, kneading at Poe’s thighs and backside, the muscles straining against his hands.   
“Yeah,” was all that Poe could say in reply. Apparently digging fingers into the shelf of his ass made him immediately tell the truth; before that ridiculous raid on Exegol, he’d have joked that he was glad the First Order hadn’t tried it. Now, leaking against his own belly with Finn’s cock hot and full in his hand, he just wanted Finn to do it again, and again, and  _ again _ . Finn kissed him and curled his long, broad fingers in, around the cleft of Poe’s ass, teasing his taint with the edge of his pinky nail. Poe growled into Finn’s mouth and ground down into his hand, brought his leg up over Finn’s waist until his heel rested on Finn’s tailbone.   
“Wait.” Finn forced them both to a halt and crawled off to one side of the bed. Poe yelped in misery, painfully hard and suddenly cold. Finn held his hand up in a  _ wait _ signal, doing something that Poe couldn’t and didn’t want to see. Leaving him like that was criminal. He rolled to complain and Finn shoved him back down. So that was promising, at least.   
“What are you  _ doing _ ?”   
“Just—” Finn made another frustrated noise. “A _ ha _ .” He threw a small unmarked bottle onto the bed, which bounced on the blanket and bumped against Poe’s arm; Poe sat up on his elbows and held it close to his face, squinting to look at it properly in low light.   
“Hey, this is mine.” He looked up at Finn. “You could’ve just asked me where it was, yknow.”   
“I… yeah, I didn’t think that through.”    
Poe laughed and flopped back down, tossed the bottle into Finn’s hands.   
“Make it up to me.”   
Finn murmured an agreement and lay down along Poe’s side, lay his head on Poe’s shoulder. He poured a generous amount of lube into his palm, rubbed his fingers together in a lazy fist to slick them up evenly.   
“Tell me if-”   
“Yeah.” Poe guided Finn’s face upward to kiss him, hooked his leg up and over Finn’s thigh. Finn tucked his free arm under Poe’s neck, hand in his hair; holding him closer, at a better angle.   
“Okay?”   
Poe sighed through his nose, wriggled from side to side an inch, settled.   
“Yeah, do it.”   
Finn gave Poe’s cock a perfunctory stroke or two before working his hand lower, curling his wrist. He pressed a blunt fingertip against Poe’s asshole, circled slowly until he could push in up to the knuckle. Poe hummed low in his throat, held Finn tighter. Finn was slow at first, cautious.   
“Good?”   
“Outstanding.”   
Finn teased and stretched, worked gentler than Poe usually particularly cared for, but if it meant Finn kept touching him, he’d stay patient for a little longer. 

Poe managed three fingers before he whined in exasperation and started fucking himself on Finn’s hand, digging his nails into Finn’s shoulders for purchase.   
“Please,” he begged, voice rough and off-kilter, “ _please_ , Finn—”  
Finn rolled them until Poe was flat on his back, one leg still hanging off Finn’s waist; he jerked himself a couple times, mostly just to get the remaining lube off his hand, and then hoisted Poe up by his hips.  
“Okay?” he repeated, rubbing the head of his cock along Poe’s crack. Poe wanted to curse at him, but only a strangled, wet noise came out; he slapped Finn’s shoulder and hoped it transmitted _I am going to die if you don’t fuck me_. Finn made a sound that was probably supposed to be a laugh, but was more like a moan, and pushed. Poe gritted his teeth, arched his back to give himself a better pivot point. Really, he should’ve waited, gotten another finger in, maybe a thumb. It’d been longer than he cared to admit since he’d had anything but a couple of his own awkwardly twisted fingers inside himself. (When they finally got around to building a proper base, maybe he’d buy himself something nice. A present for winning the war.) Finn felt _huge_ , hot and hard and unmovable. Finn pulled back out and Poe nearly howled.  
“Hey, just.” Finn lay his hand flat on Poe’s chest for a moment to calm him, and then leaned over to find the bottle, poured more lube into his hand. He bit his lip slicking himself up; Poe could only watch, and wait. As if he sensed Poe’s restlessness (and again, perhaps he _could_ ), Finn smirked and quickly stuffed two fingers back inside Poe’s ass, pistoning them until Poe kicked at him and hoped it transmitted _I am going to kill you if you don’t fuck me_. Finn laughed, almost breathless, and pushed into him again. Poe stuttered and moaned and Finn pulled his head back by the hair to kiss him and he bottomed out and this was the best he had ever felt in his entire life, thanks for everything but he could fly into the sun tomorrow without a single regret, because Finn was buried inside him to the hilt, hips rolling like the most graceful machine in the galaxy, with no intention of stopping. He was so in love he could punch the Emperor in the face. One of Finn’s hands dragged aimlessly between their bodies. Poe wrapped his own hand around it and guided it to his cock, jacking himself like a lazy afterthought, as if it was too much to concentrate on both at once, as good as it felt. Finn huffed loud and low into Poe’s mouth, voice entirely strained. He tried to speak; tried again.  
“I, I’m gonna—”  
“Yeah, _yes_ ,” Poe mouthed, and with an unreal bout of energy, shoved Finn onto his side, rolled him onto his back. He sat up, panting, triumphant, leaning back a little against Finn’s thighs. “Gonna make this so good for you,” he purred, chest heaving. Poe screwed down, legs splayed, hands fisted into the bedsheets, until Finn stopped looking at him, at anything. Finn’s entire body contracted like one long, lean muscle as he came; Poe rode him through it until Finn squawked and slapped his thigh hard.  
“Stop-stop- _stop_!”   
Poe grinned and leaned forward with a luxurious curve of his back, felt Finn’s cock slip out of him. He kissed along Finn’s jaw, his chin, the corner of his open mouth as he gulped down short, ragged breaths of air.   
“Let,” Finn gasped, “let me.” He lifted a shaky hand and curled it around Poe’s leaking cock, brought him off with rough pumps that left Poe too spent to stay upright, and he collapsed on top of Finn with a heavy sigh of contentment.   
“Out _standing_ ,” he wheezed. Finn laughed so hard it hurt. 

They stayed like that for a long while, just breathing, until Finn got a dead arm and Poe started squirming from how cold and wet his ass felt. Poe reluctantly flung himself onto his back next to Finn and took a deep breath. Finn was looking up at the ceiling, flexing the feeling back into his hand.    
“Hey,” Poe whispered, breaking the silence. Finn turned his head to look over.   
“Hey.” He reached for Poe’s hand, touched their fingertips together.    
“You okay?”   
“Yes,” said Finn, almost authoritatively. Poe laced their fingers and squeezed.   
“Yeah. Good.” He closed his eyes, listened to his heart still thrumming away in his chest.   
“Poe.”   
“Hm?”   
“You’re not  _ that _ old.”    
Poe let go of his hand and thumped him in the gut.   
“What, you expected my back to give out? Tch.” He snorted, tucked himself under Finn’s arm.   
“That was, like,  _ really _ good.”   
“Told you.” Poe lay still for a moment, then sat up, wrinkled his nose. “Hey, stay here, I  _ really _ need to wash my ass.”

When he returned from the fresher, half-dried off, Finn was still lying where he left him, staring at the mismatched panelling overhead. Poe folded his arms and leaned in the doorway. It probably would’ve looked more affectionate if he wasn’t naked.   
“Credit for your thoughts?”   
Finn rolled his neck until it cracked.   
“Yeah, I don’t know if you wanna hear them.”   
Poe frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed, hunched over. “Did I…” He ran a hand through his hair, tangling in thick wet streaks. “Did we do something wrong here?”   
“What? No, no.” Finn sat up, pressed his forehead to the back of Poe’s shoulder, warm against the droplets he’d missed. “Yeah, I see why- but no, no, this was- this  _ is _ .” He shook his head in frustration. “This is all coming out wrong.”   
Poe shuffled around to face Finn, tucked his legs underneath himself.    
“Take your time.”   
Finn frowned, swallowed, looked between Poe’s knees and the floor while he waited for the words to form.   
“It keeps coming back to me,” he said softly, his brow knitted in a distant frown. “There was… on the Death Star. I don’t know, even before that, Pasaana, it’s…” Finn sighed, sniffed. “Rey was… she wasn’t herself, and I thought. I had this, this idea. And I  _ thought about it _ , Poe. Like it was something I could actually, seriously do.” He chewed on his lip, steadied his voice. “I thought she might.  _ Turn _ . And I’d—I’d  _ be _ the one to stop her. I’d  _ have _ to stop her.”    
Poe cocked his head to one side with a sad sigh.   
“Oh, buddy. Come here.” He drew Finn into his arms and held him tight; kissed his forehead, drew lazy loops with his thumb on the back of his neck. “You’re a good man, Finn. You  _ know _ that.”   
“I could feel it,” he mumbled against Poe’s neck. “That’s why I went after her.” A pause. “Why I fought with you.”   
“Because you knew what she was fighting.”   
“Yeah.” Finn looked up at Poe, eyes glassy with tears. “That’s why.”   
Poe couldn’t say it hadn’t hurt his feelings, that it was fine; it’d still been a miserable blow on what had been an increasingly terrible day. But it made sense, now.    
“It’s easy to think that it’s only the enemy makes plans like that. Like we’re better than putting our own in the ground.” Poe lay his head down on Finn’s shoulder. “But they’re not. We’re not. It still happens. You just have to live with it in a way that makes it mean something. That’s the difference.”   
Finn nodded against him, arms curled against his chest.   
“I should’ve told you.”   
“You’ve told me, now.” Poe shrugged. “And hey, look. You didn’t have to do anything, she figured it out,  _ we _ figured it out. We’re safe.”   
Finn made an agreeable noise and pressed a kiss to Poe’s jaw.   
“Thank you.” He rubbed his eyes dry on the back of his arm, then frowned. “You’re still really wet.”   
Poe scoffed quietly.    
“I was trying not to keep you waiting!”   
“By walking straight out of the fresher?”   
Finn was teasing him, he was smiling again; still a little wobbly around the edges, but a weight had lifted from his shoulders, that was easy enough for Poe to see.   
“Hey,” he said softly, cupping Finn’s face in his hands, “let me take care of you.” Poe knelt up and gently turned Finn over onto his front, lay him face down against the pillows. Finn’s back was a beautiful expanse of hard muscle under soft skin, smooth except for the harsh pink slash that ran across it. Poe cracked his knuckles and stretched his arms behind him, which made Finn look over his shoulder at him with a raised brow; Poe just smiled at him and patted his ass reassuringly. He straddled the low dip in Finn’s back, not quite sitting on his tailbone, and leaned in, fingers spread wide.    
“What’re you- _ oh _ .”   
Poe dug his thumbs into Finn’s shoulder-blades, feeling the muscles underneath clench and resist; he worked harder, pushing and pulling and circling until the knots began to loosen, one by one. Finn made all manner of noises in the process, which Poe definitely didn’t catalogue for later application. 

“Where’d you learn  _ this _ ,” Finn slurred, curving up into Poe’s touch as his palms skittered down his spine.   
“Went on a date with Suralinda Javos,” Poe replied casually, hooking his fingers into Finn’s obliques.   
“Really?” His breath hitched; he exhaled through the pain.   
“No.” Poe laughed, eased up. “No, just gotten my ass beat a lot since I took up this whole, y’know, Resistance business.”  
“You mean you didn’t get your ass beat before that?” Poe slipped down to squat over Finn’s thighs and drove his elbow into the meat above his ass. Finn yelped and tried to kick Poe off his legs. Poe laughed and hunkered down, buried his face in Finn’s ass with a low, appreciative growl. Finn relented with a sigh.   
“That’s it, bud. Relax.” He nuzzled down into Finn’s cleft. “You like that?”   
“Mhm,” said Finn, into the pillow.   
“Good,” said Poe, and licked a broad, wet stripe to Finn’s asshole. He laved at the tender skin until Finn let out a dry squeak, and looked up to see Finn clutching the pillows, shoulders high above his head. Poe huffed a hot breath that made Finn squirm. “Rel _ aaaax _ ,” he whispered, and rested his chin on Finn’s hip. He massaged the backs of his thighs, stroking and pulling up under his ass, pushing the cheeks apart to press his tongue flush against Finn’s taint. “That’s good,” he purred, feeling Finn shake, “you’re doing so good.”    
Finn whined into the covers and wriggled up onto his knees, still facedown. Poe reached under him and held Finn’s cock loosely, just enough for Finn to feel it. “You’re perfect.”   
Finn rolled his hips down into Poe’s hand, slow and lazy, rocking back against Poe’s face. Poe murmured his praise as he tongued Finn’s asshole, a little mindless but still honest,  _ you’re so good, buddy, I love you, I love how you feel, let me do this for you forever _ . Finn’s hips suddenly snapped off-rhythm and he came with a low gasp. Poe kissed the back of Finn’s thigh and grinned. Finn rolled over onto his back with a quiet grunt; he lay between Finn’s legs, entirely too pleased with himself.    
“Bit better?”    
Finn looked down at him, propping himself up with an arm behind his head; Poe sucked his thumb clean like he’d been eating with his hands, which earned him an exasperated-but-affectionate look.    
“Uh-huh.”   
“That’s what I like to hear.” Poe made his way back up the bed on hands and knees, bringing the rumpled bedsheets with him; Finn tugged him into his side with his free arm.    
“Hey,” he murmured, tugging a damp forelock out of Poe’s eyes.   
“Hm,” Poe mumbled back, struggling to keep his eyes open, even with Finn fidgeting near them.   
“How are you still wet,” Finn grumbled, rubbing Poe’s back with the edge of the blanket. Poe shrugged, exhausted.    
“How are you still  _ awake _ ?”   
“I’m not old.”   
Poe groaned irritably into Finn’s neck, dropped his arm around Finn’s waist.   
“Respect your elders, then.”    
Finn laughed under his breath, kissed the very edge of Poe’s hairline where the grey started to creep.    
“Consider yourself respected.”   
“Hm, good.” Poe nuzzled closer, rolled his arm in its socket until it fit just right. “I love you. Love you, love you, love you.” He yawned and his jaw cracked. “We’re good?” He hoped Finn didn’t actually have an answer, because he wasn’t going to be conscious to hear it; he pressed a lazy smudge of a kiss to Finn’s cheek before the world melted away into silence and blessed, long-overdue sleep.   
“Outstanding,” said Finn.   



End file.
